The Revengist's Tragedy
by dontstealmyvitaminies
Summary: Remus knew that he shouldn't have done it. And now Tonks and Sirius fully intended on making him pay for it. He swallowed nervously as Sirius flicked on the muggle 'blender' contraption. He REALLY shouldn't have done it.


**A/N: So, just a little one-shot to throw in, I haven't been updating a regular story so far… For my Jane Austen readers, one is in the making, but it's not quite there yet!**

Sirius' flashing silver eyes narrowed, his brows furrowed together. He pressed his strong, weathered hands against the surface of the kitchen table, rationing his breaths as he tried to regain control. Matted wisps of coarse dark hair fell into his line of vision as he clenched his jaw.

"You do realise, Remus, my _friend_," he began, spitting out the endearment as if it were a bitter potion he had reluctantly swallowed in a frantic attempt to cure himself of a hypochondriacally inspired disease, "that I _will_ have to kill you," he continued, his voice clipped and brisk. Remus shifted uneasily in his seat, the corners of his chapped lips twitching downwards. Each tiny little dark blonde hair across his almost angular jaw shuddered.

Sirius once more narrowed his gaze.

"Am I not to even receive a trial?" Remus questioned hopefully, the slight tilt of his head hinting at his unease. Sirius allowed a bitter chuckle to escape from his lips, only continuing to unnerve his companion.

"A trial? For your crimes? I think _not_," he snapped curtly, the laughter dying when it had only scarcely escaped from his lips. "And besides – there can be no fair trial. We live in a corrupted sphere, my _friend_," he added, leaning back in his chair, offering his companion the allusion of ease and comfort. He inspected his nails with keen, somewhat forced interest, tossing the stray dark lock from his once handsome face with well-practised absentmindedness.

"I – I'm sure it would be fair, Sirius," Remus tried to convince him, his voice weak and wavering. Sirius sent him a sharp scowl in return.

Remus' hands began to tremble, his palms sweating. He wrung them together anxiously under the fierce gaze of his once friend, his symbolical brother, guilt rising up within his chest like waves crashing against the shore. His head was filled with a dull, throbbing pain as he chewed on his lip.

He knew full well that what he had done was wrong. His actions, though, in his opinion, were understandable, were inexcusable. How could he betray his friend so? How could he commit such wrong – and in full command of his senses? With complete understanding of his sins? Guilt was a vile emotion that threatened to consume him. He cast his golden-amber eyes downward, tracing patterns in the woodwork beneath his wringing hands.

"You hurt me, Remus. Very deeply. It is my intent, nay, my _right_ –" Sirius began, his voice growing angered to disguise his pain, "– to take my revenge from you!" he declared firmly, slamming his clenched fist on the table with an almightily _clang_ that reverberated through the dingy kitchen that the two men shared.

Or, at least, Sirius thought bitterly, had _once_ shared. There was no question of Remus continuing to live. Not for what he had done.

_An eye for an eye_, he mused sadly. He felt slightly bereft to know that his friend would so soon be leaving him. But, he reminded himself, it was only fair. For what he had done, there could be no forgiveness.

"You're better than this, Sirius," Remus reminded his former friend patiently, his tone tinged pale with desperation. "Rise above my actions, I beg of you. Forgive me my sins, for I – I know not what monster possessed me!" he cried, his eyes beginning to widen upon hearing the sounds of his own pleas.

"_Better than this_?" Sirius spat bitterly in return, his voice sharpened. He slammed the front legs of his chair on the slate floor; the unpleasant sound of their contact no distraction for the argument between them. "Need I remind you, _Moony_, that I'm no longer – as you say, '_better_' than anything!" he objected angrily. "Perhaps at one time – but that was many years ago. I've changed – _situations_ have altered. In the society I once frequented, perhaps it would be possible for me to forgive you. Or at least bury my grudge," he began to rave, his face growing red with frustration as he leant his weathered, too-old-for-the-years body forwards in his uncomfortable chair. "But unfortunately for _you_, my fall from grace has prohibited such acts of charity! _And_ any hope of a fair trial!" he continued with growing irk.

"Please, Sirius, I didn't do this to harm you," begged Remus, eyes wide and fearful. He anxiously ran his trembling hands through dishevelled locks of tarnished gold, flecked with the occasional grey that his handsome face seemed to disagree with.

A quiet, and rather reserved man of five-and-thirty, Remus Lupin was not the kind of person to willingly cause another man discomfort or inconvenience. Being happily walked over for the majority of his life by anyone kind enough to lend him the slightest flicker of a smile, he would purposely go out of his way to please others. He knew not how he had fallen from the impeccable standards he had set for himself. Sirius was almost a brother to him, and yet he had betrayed him so? It was inconceivable that he would such a thing, but that changed nothing – he had committed such wrongs against his friend that his life was surely to be the only offering he could give in repayment.

"I've been quite calm, Remus, up to this point, but I fear that my anger can no longer be contained!" Sirius cried angrily, rising from his chair with such force that his companion almost fell from his chair in surprise. He steadied himself just in time, hiding a whimper that threatened to escape from his lips.

"This isn't easy for me, you –"

"What, Remus? Did my back hurt your knife? Did you strain your shoulder, thrusting it into my spine with such force?" he questioned incredulously, deaf to the sounds of his friend's objections.

"Please, Padfoot. Don't lower yourself to my level, it was a silly moment of weakness," he began to beg. "I'll give _anything_ for your forgiveness, I swear," he promised.

Sirius looked thoughtful, tapping his lips pensively.

"I want Tonks," he declared finally. Remus' eyes widened and he _did_ fall from his chair.

"My _girlfriend_, Tonks? Your _cousin,_ Tonks?" he questioned in disbelief, pulling himself up to a standing position.

"Well why bloody well not?" he replied snappishly, his silver eyes narrowed once more. "You know full well that I'm in no position to prosecute you, you're loved by _everyone_!" he cried. "I was _forced_ to live in this dump, away from the real world, my _real life_, and because of that, a situation that I have no control over, I'm now powerless to seek justice!" he declared, beginning to pace. He brushed the remaining crumbs of breakfast from his dark sweater with an absent mind. "Revenge is my only answer! I'll kill you, or take your woman. Your decision," he finished, ending his exercise, and turning back to his friend with a sharpened expression.

"I – I know, but…" Remus tried to reply, grasping around the contents of his mind for words that he knew he possessed, but, for the life of him, he could not make appear. "I can't give you Tonks. I can't allow an innocent woman to suffer for my misdeeds," he said firmly, after a moment's thought.

"Fine then. You know what needs to be done," Sirius stated pointedly, crossing his arms behind his back in a quiet act of authority. His eyes flashed darkly as Remus gave a short, submissive nod. "I'll try to make this quick," he promised, stepping forwards.

"Tell Tonks that I love her, and I'm sorry for what I did," he requested softly in response, lowering his head.

"Oh, I'm sure she knows," Sirius replied, glancing around the kitchen in search of a weapon.

He looked thoughtfully at the muggle contraption Hermione had left to make 'smoothies', as she named them. What was it called? Oh, yes, Sirius recalled, it was a '_blender_'.

After all, he _had_ fallen from Grace, like Lucifer from the heavens, and he would love so dearly to see his once friend come to such a bloody end…

"Give me a minute to find out how this works," he requested of the terminal, who met his executioner's line of vision with shock. His amber eyes widened, his bottom lip fell with a soft gasp, and he unconsciously took a step backwards as Sirius looked curiously at the large black buttons on the side of the machine. He experimentally poked one, before the kitchen was filled with the dull buzzing sound of sharpened twin blades spinning around at seemingly warp speed.

Remus felt sick.

"Step forwards, my old friend," Sirius demanded, crossing his arms against his chest. Remus paled considerably. "Hurry up about it – do you have _any_ idea how longs it's going to take me to clean this kitchen up once I've done away with you?" he questioned snappishly, growing impatient. "I have to feed Buckbeak in half an hour! I'm not having you stick around until then!" he continued with a scowl.

"Uhhh… care to explain?" came a questioning voice from the doorway. Both men turned to meet Tonks' scolding gaze with surprise, not having heard her enter. Usually from the moment she entered the house something had been knocked over or woken from the dead.

"Remus is about to pay for the crimes he committed against me, _his former best friend_. And after all that I did for the miserable old git, too," Sirius stated with conviction, pointing a slender finger accusingly at his companion, jutting his chin forwards self-righteously.

"Crimes? What the hell could he have done that deserved death by a spinning vortex of pain?" she questioned incredulously, her dark eyes narrowing as she tossed a lock of her today rich chocolate and cream curls over her lithe shoulder.

"Something vile. He doesn't deserve you," Sirius stated, before Remus could interject. Tonks snorted, and rolled her eyes.

"Quite. But he deserves me a great deal more than you do, _cousin_," she replied, stepping into the kitchen, and beginning the process of unbuttoning her coat. Sirius looked on lecherously.

"Eyes off," Remus muttered to his friend, who silenced him with a sound glare in response.

Tonks was looking rather pleasant that day, with her long chocolate and cream hair, there was something more sophisticated. She always looked slightly more human when she came back from visiting her mother. Today her perfectly sculpted eyebrows that lent something rather subtle to her appearance, when countered with her big dark eyes, framed by coal lashes. She held herself with confidence and authority. Sirius was rather frightened of her, although he'd never admit it, partially because he was well aware that she was, as his cousin, unavailable to him, and partially because she was handy with a wand. He didn't stand a chance with her, relation aside. _Remus_ hadn't a chance with her, and yet, for some unknown reason, she seemed to have some sort of attachment to him. Which was rather inconvenient for Sirius.

"Now, gentlemen," she began, before frowning at her own term. "_Children_. Would someone care to explain the situation?" she requested curtly, her tone authoritative and commanding, making the pair feel very much as if they had just been given slaps across the wrists for staying up too late before bed.

"Your lover committed a crime of war."

"There's no _war_ in this house, and even if there _were_, my actions are not worthy of a court-martial."

"No, just the gallows!"

"They got rid of that quite a while ago, Sirius," Tonks reminded him patiently, leaning against the edge of the table with her arms crossed against her chest, her brow furrowed with anger. "What did he do?" she questioned.

"Well, you aren't going to believe this," Sirius assured her, as Remus shifted guiltily beside him.

"I _said_ I was sorry," he muttered in vain. Sirius rolled his dark eyes at his last attempts for forgiveness.

"Sorry doesn't change what you did – sorry means nothing in light of your actions!" Sirius argued with irritation. "You _destroyed_ a sacred tradition, a higher power far beyond your comprehension! And _now_ you must pay for that!" he cried with conviction.

"What the hell did he _do_?" Tonks questioned, growing anxious with the tone that Sirius was using to describe such crimes.

"It was a mistake!"

"It was intentional! Deliberate!"

"I said I was sorry a million times!"

"Lies! Lies! House of _Lies_! Why must you turn every conversation into a House of _Lies_?"

"Sirius! What on earth did he _do_?" Tonks asked once more, her anxiousness turning to anger.

Her voice cut through the bickering of the two men, and Sirius took a deep breath, steeling himself for the answer he was about to give.

"He broke the eighth commandment of this holy house," he informed her curtly.

Tonks looked from Sirius to Remus in silent question. Her boyfriend nodded shamefully, hanging his head like a disgraced puppy.

"Well," she murmured, her voice clipped, like that of the wings of a caged bird. She took her coat and bag in hand, rising up to her full height once more.

Remus' heart sunk. In that one little word, she had conveyed her feelings. She was completely and totally dejected.

"Sirius, I give you full permission to do your worst with that whatcha-ma-call-it. He deserves it," she said, no longer meeting her love's eyes. "I'm going to Diagon Alley \to replenish what's been taken from us, when I get back, I expect several less digits on that hand," she announced, turning from the men, and stalking out of the kitchen. They both heard the front door close behind her with a frame-shaking _bang_, Mrs Black's portrait shattering the silence with an ear splitting wail. She was promptly ignored.

"Alright, right hand first. Over to the blender, _now_," Sirius commanded.

Remus sighed.

He _knew_ he shouldn't have eaten the last Tim-Tam.

**A/N: Reviewers get to decide Remus' punishment for his horrific crimes, because death-by-blender seems a **_**little**_ **harsh. ^__^**


End file.
